Deadly Coercion
by MorKen
Summary: Colette Holmes is a Reaper with a vicious side. Her violent tactics have earned her a threat of suspension and/or demotion. Her hands are tied; either she must attempt to control herself or else lose the job she has an immeasurable passion for and status she has grown to depend on. (Slight romance: OCxRonald)
1. Chastised

_"The duty of a grim reaper is essential. Our coercion with judgment and fatality is vital in the scheme of the fragile balance between life and death."_

* * *

Colette Holmes's heels clicked on the sparkling, white, marble floor as she neared her office. _"How dare they…"_ she thought viciously as she made her way down the hall. _"How dare they threaten to suspend me."_ Gritting her teeth in frustration, she rounded the corner and began making her way down the large white, marble staircase to the fourth floor – her department.

"Good morning, Ms. Holmes," a voice sounded from behind her. She stopped and turned, her eyes meeting those of Alan Humphries, one of her department subordinates, who was standing on the floor above.

"Good morning, Mr. Humphries," she replied politely, then turned and continued down the steps. Alan quickened his pace to catch up with her. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye; his dark brown hair was slightly messy, his slender, young-looking face pointed straight-ahead as he rushed toward her. He was a nice guy, always rather considerate of others and an all-around rather meek, but genial young man. Colette liked him well enough.

"I heard about what happened," he said suddenly, after he had caught up and was now walking beside her. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her expression that of curiosity and irritation. "I'm sorry," he added, casting a look of condolence at her. She narrowed her eyes and straightened the thin, baby-blue colored glasses that always sat perfectly balanced on the end of her perfect, button-nose, allowing her piercing eyes to graze over the top of their small rims at him.

"No need to apologize, Mr. Humphries," she answered coolly, her gaze icy and unnerving. He cleared his throat, nervous. It was well established that Colette Holmes, though exceptionally stunning and attractive, was an extremely intimidating, ruthless individual. Her violent tactics and habit of pushing the limits of what were acceptable actions and methods for a Reaper had gotten her into a bit of trouble with their superiors in the past. Yet, her deadly efficiency, strong work ethic, immeasurable skill, and obvious potiential had grabbed the attention of her superiors and had earned her the title of the only female Grim Reaper in the London Dispatch Division's Retrieval Department. In fact, her age was that of a Junior, but she had received several significant promotions over the past two years she had been there, shooting her ahead in status and rank. In addition, she was about to receive yet another, which would push her to the level of Junior Head of their department, making it so she would only answer to the Department Manager, William T. Spears. Colette greatly prided herself and her position, which was the reason she feared the threat of demotion. This job was the only thing that seemed to merit her life worth-while. Which was why Colette would do everything in her power to make sure she continued to rise up the London Dispatch Division's Corporate ladder.

She and Alan parted ways as they stepped foot onto the fourth floor. He went to his desk which sat in the open on the department floor, along with all the other Junior and subordinately-ranked Reapers. Colette, however, continued across the floor toward her office, which she was bestowed nearly fourth months prior, when she had been promoted to the title of 'Junior Head of the Retrieval Department'. Colette knew how to play the game – she was extremely talented in what she did and had a passion for her work, which proved handy in her goal of rising to the top of the London Dispatch Division. As she walked to her office, her heels clicking sharply across the floor, she felt the eyes of all her colleagues burning into her, scrutinizing and glaring at her as she passed. She refused to look phased by their resentment-fueled stares and held her shoulders back even more and tipped her chin even higher in the air. Reaching the handle of her office door, Colette disappeared inside, closing it behind her with an affirmative 'click'. Sighing, she clicked on the tall black floor lamp that stood in the corner of the room, immediately illuminating the office with artificial light. Her office was relatively large; there was a small closet in the west corner, hidden by an opaque black changing screen. A pair of leather chairs sat in the north-east corner on either side of a small, round table. Décor was scarce, as Colette had no interest in personalizing her workspace, feeling that there was no need to allow others to get to know her through useless nick-knacks and pictures hanging on the wall. Making her way over to her desk, Colette noticed a considerable stack of paperwork adorning its surface. She sighed once she was seated in the large, plush, leather chair that sat behind the ebony-wood desk, dipped her pen in the small ink bottle that sat in the upper left corner, and began to work.

* * *

It was morning when she awoke, her head raising slowly off of the smooth, cold surface of her desk. She sighed and rose stiffly, stretching and rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly. She glanced at her desk, noticing all the paperwork from the night before had been completed and placed into the 'Outgoing' box. She smiled, pleased with her progress, and made her way over to the small closet to change. Removing her garments and draping them over the top of the changing screen, she rummaged through her closet and began to put a fresh change of clothing on. She dressed herself in her usual black collared dress shirt, followed by a baby-blue silk vest, was completed with a pair of black dress pants, shiny black high-heeled shoes, and a small, baby-blue silk ribbon that was tied in a loose bow under her collar. Just as she had finished tying the silk bow, a single knock sounded on the other side of her door. Clearing her throat, she walked over and opened it. Standing in the hallway, she found William T. Spears.

"Good morning, Ms. Holmes," he greeted curtly. She nodded her head slowly in greeting. "It would seem you and I have been placed on the same assignment this morning." He lifted his hand, holding a white piece of paper as proof, and handed it to Colette's outstretched hand. She took it and blinked, her eyes still blurry from sleep, as she tried to decipher the small, printed words. "It would seem there shall be a considerable amount victims – too much for one reaper to handle without assistance. And it seems that with Mr. Sutcliff on suspension, my superiors are forcing me to pick up the slack." She nodded and handed the paper back to him. William was not a very agreeable person. He loathed the thought of unpaid overtime and was extremely put-out by Grelle Sutcliff's suspension.

"So it would seem," she replied, her voice its usual low and melodic tone. "One moment," she held up her index finger and turned, disappearing into her office. William waited in the hallway, folding the paper and slipping it into his inside jacket pocket. Colette returned several moments later with her Scythe.

"Let's go," William said firmly. Colette nodded and stepped into the hallway, turning to lock her door behind her.

They found themselves standing on a snow-covered rooftop in the middle of London, England. Their breaths slipped through their nostrils in puffs of steam as they each pulled out their Soul Retrieval Lists and flipped to the appropriate date - January 17, 1888. Colette noticed that all the deaths assigned to her were mere minutes apart, all occurring at the same location.

"There," William said after a moment or two. Colette looked up and followed his finger, which pointed to a large pillar of black smoke only several blocks away.

"Shall we?" she asked before leaping to the next rooftop. William pushed his glasses further along the bridge of his nose and, narrowing his eyes, leapt after her. They reached their destination and stood on top of the adjacent roof. Colette gazed, mesmerized by the merciless flames that had engulfed what appeared to be a single-story bakery. She pursed her perfect, rose-bud lips together, bracing herself against a cruel, chilling gust of wind that whipped through her loosely curled honey-blonde hair. She hissed through her teeth at the unwelcome chill and turned to William, who leapt down into the alleyway down below. She watched as he looked for an entrance into the burning building. After a minute, he found the back entrance. Kicking it open, he entered. Colette took a fleeting glance at her wrist-watch and went in after him.

The two remained silent as they harvested the souls of the dying. William shoved his long, shear-like Scythe into the chest of a blank-eyed woman, her Cinematic Record immediately spilling forth from the wound. Colette glanced at him from the corner of her eye as he began examining the Record indifferently, pushing his glasses further up along the bridge of his nose. She turned and swung her tall sickle-like Scythe, completely beheading a teenaged boy dressed in a chef's uniform who lay lifeless on the wooden floor of the bakery. Blood and his Cinematic Record began spurting forth at once from the now-severed neck. She sighed, looking over the ghost-like film strips that gushed from the wound and, finding nothing particular impressive or intriguing, stamped 'Complete' on his picture in the Soul Retrieval List and listed his death as 'Smoke asphyxiation'.

"Weren't you just chastised about such violent actions only yesterday?" William's reproachful voice sounded from behind her. She turned to look at him. William and she had a fairly decent relationship, but Colette disliked it when he rebuked her and treated her as if she were still a Junior member of staff. In fact, she despised it when anyone treated her as if she were less than she was. She worked hard for her current position and thought rather highly of herself for being able to obtain it so quickly in her career. Yes, she was pompous at times and vanity took ahold of her frequently, but she saw nothing wrong with it - did she not have a right to feel pride in her impressive achievements?

"Oh," she said darkly, tearing herself from her thoughts, "and are you going to _report_ me, William?" A wooden beam came crashing to the floor behind him, sending ashes and cinders everywhere as they stared wordlessly at each other. He sighed and turned, sending his Scythe into another woman's chest, after several silent moments.

"Perhaps," he warned, breaking the silence. Colette turned and continued on with her work, a sense of worry growing in her gut from William's threatening answer as she beheaded yet another employee. Apparently this had been a rather popular bakery, considering the substantial amount of workers that had been inside when the blaze started. Nearly thirty souls had been judged and sentenced by the time the two reapers were finished. Colette stood, wiping a small blood spatter off her cheek and turned to William, who was listening to the commotion that had begun to come from outside.

"It would seem a considerable crowd has formed," he surmised, turning to her. "We should take our leave through the way we entered." She nodded and followed him through the bakery's back room and out the burned back entrance. As soon as they stepped into the alleyway, a flood of noise overcame them. _"Such noisy creatures."_ Colette thought condescendingly as she followed William around to the front of the building. They stood, watching as people in the crowd, still dressed in their night gown and pajamas, screamed in horror at the sight and a line of men passed buckets full of water between themselves toward the end man, who dumped them onto the fiery structure in an attempt to quell the growing flames. Colette smirked at the sight. _"Pitiful humans,"_ she thought, turning from William and taking several steps toward the end of the block. Before she could get more than a few feet away, though, a strong hand grabbed her wrist suddenly, preventing her from continuing. She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at William.

"Where do you think you are going?" he questioned, his tone harsh.

Colette ignored his question. "Release me," she ordered, her voice low and dangerous.

"After yesterday's occurrences you are going to go wandering about the mortal world, alone?" he asked, his grip tightening, "That will merely bring more suspicion and judgment upon yourself, you realize." Her eyes became cold and stone-like as she glared at him. Flinging her arm to the side, she freed herself from his firm grasp. Straightening her vest, she rose her chin in the air arrogantly and turned on her heel, continuing on her way down the block. William did not call after her.

She found herself standing in front of a small shop. Above the door was a sign made of rotted wood with the word 'Undertaker' carved across it. Colette smiled fondly to herself and went inside just as the sun began to peek above the rooftops of London, causing a brilliant orange-yellow light to cascade across the city. The stench of formaldehyde seeped into her nostrils once she had closed the door behind her. The room was dark, lit only by the faint beam of light that crawled across the wooden floor from the window. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for the man she had come to see. A soft smile adorned her plump pink lips when her gazed landed on an open casket. She walked over and peered inside, her yellow-green eyes gazing at a man with very long, silvery hair dressed in a cascading black cloak. He was sleeping. She leaned down and reached out a well-manicured nail and gently poked his nose. He stirred and, several moments later, turned his head toward her, a toothy grin immediately spreading across his face.

"Little Colette," he said fondly, rising up and out of the coffin.

"Undertaker," she hummed melodically, smiling. His smile fell as he looked at her curiously.

"What has brought you here so early, little one?" he asked. Colette motioned outside with her head. He peered out the window and noticed small flakes of ash falling from the sky. "Ahhh," he said, the smile crawling back across his lips. He was very fond of the blonde little Reaper, having grown close with her over time. Before she had even become a member of the London Dispatch Division, they had shared many conversations. She had always held his advice in extremely high esteem, and valued her relationship with him above all others. He had served as a mentor-figure for her when she was a new recruit, bestowing upon her small tidbits of advice he had learned from his own time spent working as a Reaper. She was very fond of the Undertaker, seeing him as her only true confidant and even as a friend.

"Please," he said, motioning to one of the closed coffins, "have a seat." She glanced at her Retrieval List and saw that her only other reap for the day was not scheduled until four o'clock that afternoon. She looked up at him and smiled, going over to sit on the smooth wood of the coffin.

* * *

"Threatened to suspend you, did they?" the Undertaker asked as she held a beaker full of tea he had made for her.

"Either that," she replied, sipping her tea, "or demotion." The Undertaker looked up from the corpse he was preparing for a funeral later that day and frowned at her.

"What a shame," he mused. "No appreciation for ingenuity." She hummed in agreement. "You know," he said, adding a faint hint of red dye to the lifeless man's cheeks, "I was very similar to you. They had no understanding for my creativity and vision, either." Colette stared at him, listening intently. "It is nothing to be ashamed of, little one," he added, tilting his head to the side and stepping back to examine his work.

"I am not ashamed," she snapped. He chuckled lightly.

"Naturally," he replied with a smile. She calmed down and took another sip from the beaker.

"However," he continued. She glanced up at him as he went to stand over her. "You must be cautious, little one," he warned, his voice low and slightly ominous. Her eyebrow rose questioningly.

"What do you mean?" she asked. The Undertaker leaned in close.

"The fact that you are a young Grim Reaper who has risen so quickly through the ranks, and being a female, no less…is reason enough for your superiors to keep a close eye on you and for others to dislike you." She wrapped her nails lightly on the wood, making four faint, consecutive 'taps' as she mulled over his words. "Be careful, little one," he murmured in conclusion, brushing a long black fingernail lightly across her cheek. She grabbed his hand.

"I will," she assured quietly. The Undertaker chuckled and went back to his work. Colette glanced at her pocket watch, which read 3:47. "I must leave," she said, rising from her seat on the coffin lid. The Undertaker did not turn from his work, but merely voiced a 'goodbye' as she walked through the door and out onto the street, closing it softly behind her. Glancing down at her 'To Die' list, Colette saw that she would have to travel to the wharf to retrieve her final soul for the day. Sighing, she straightened her thin baby-blue glasses and leapt onto the rooftop of the Undertaker's shop and began making her way toward the docks.


	2. Gossip

She sat, crouched on the rooftop of a warehouse overlooking the wharf, as a drizzling sleet began to fall, making the looming cloud of irritation and cynicism that had been following Colette since the previous day weigh even more heavily down upon her. She did not feel cold, however, but did not enjoy the sensation of the dismal weather striking against her back. Her eyes narrowed as she singled out a particular man who was unloading a cargo ship that had docked minutes before with a group of other workers. He was pitiful looking. His hair was ratty and unkempt, his clothes were in wet tatters, and a thick layer of grime seemed to be imprinted on his skin, unable to be washed away. She huffed, looking at the small black leather watch on her wrist. Only four minutes until this man would meet his demise. She watched as he brought another wooden box from the ship, walking carefully down the ramp as its evident weight began to pose an issue for him. Colette noticed his lips were tightly pursed as he struggled to carry the heavy box, his arms shaking considerably. Colette watched as he neared a dingy, precarious looking puddle, his right foot headed straight for it. _"Idiot,"_ she thought as the man began falling, his foot having slipped in the puddle that lay beside the edge. The crate fell into the water beside him. A haphazard nail that was protruding from the wood had caught onto his tattered, dirty sleeve and was now pulling him down into the sea after it. The crate's considerable weight dragged him downward, making any hope of escape to the surface for air diminish as the chilling water stung his skin and pierced his lungs like needles as he clawed madly for air. Colette rose from her perch and, as the air bubbles that had been rising to the surface suddenly ceased, leapt from the warehouse rooftop, diving straight into the water after the man.

Colette clambered out of the ocean and stood, straightening her vest and composed herself. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the Soul Retrieval List and flipped to 'Fredrick Starky', stamping complete on his picture and listing 'Drowned' under 'Reason of Death' underneath his general information. Sighing, she returned to Headquarters, her reaping finished for the day.

Colette's heels clicked on the marble white floors of the London Dispatch Division Headquarters, a wet trail following her as she made her way to her office. Crossing the Retrieval Department floor, she maintained an air of confidence and power, despite her disarrayed appearance. Colette quickly retreated into her office, eager to get her wet outfit off.

Once she had put on fresh, dry clothing, a knock sounded at her door. Shaking her hair in a feeble attempt to dry it, Colette walked over and opened the door, revealing Ronald Knox standing in the hallway. Though they both were of the same age and had also joined the London Dispatch Division at the same time, Ronald was still a junior. Colette eyed the man carefully, her cold eyes grazing over his fresh, cheerful face, blonde and black hair, and charming smile. Ronald looked at her, his eyes wide once he focused on her face. Her wet hair had clung to her cheeks, twisted and dripping along her soft pale skin, creating a stunning, sensual display. He blinked and smiled, composing himself.

"Afternoon, Colette," he greeted merrily, leaning against the side of the door frame and shoving his hands into his pant-pockets. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Miss Holmes," she corrected, her voice firm. Ronald chuckled and sighed.

"Hello to you, too," he said sarcastically, cheerfulness still ringing in his voice. She glared at him, her eyes piercing and intimidating. Seeing this, Ronald ceased his laughter and stood straight, addressing her again. "I'm sorry," he said, feigning sincerity. "Miss Holmes," he began, looking serious, "would you care to join me after work for a drink?" His voice was level and his offer, she presumed, genuine.

Colette's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Why?"

Ronald chuckled. "That's what normal office mates do, don't they?" he answered, shrugging. Colette eyed him, unsure of what to think.

"No," she replied after a moment. Ronald's face betrayed a slight look of surprise, which he quickly brushed away with a suave smirk.

"I figured," he said, laughing softly. "Your too much of a stiff for that, aren't you?"

Gritting her teeth, she answered, "I'm afraid so, Knox." Her voice was full of venom. Ronald may have sensed this, but he did not show any change of attitude from it.

"What a shame," he pouted. "And I even rooted in your favor." Colette's eyebrow rose slightly.

"What are you talking about?" she questioned incredulously.

"Nothing," he said casually, beginning to turn and walk toward his desk. Colette wanted to know what he was referring to, but held her tongue, not wanting to look like a fool. Slowly, she closed her office door and went to start her paperwork for the day.

* * *

"What did she say?" asked Eric Slingby, a muscular, long blonde-haired Reaper, as Ronald returned to his desk on the department floor. Ronald shrugged his shoulders.

"What you said she would say," he answered simply, taking a seat at his desk. Eric laughed, his blue tinted glasses sliding down his nose. Eric quickly shoved them back up the bridge of his nose with his finger and stopped laughing, turning to Alan Humphries, whose desk was adjacent to his. "Told him," he said simply, jabbing his thumb toward Ronald.

"Indeed, you did," Alan agreed, smirking.

Ronald chuckled. "Oh well. No skin off my nose."

"Poor gal," Eric said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head.

"What do you mean?" Ronald asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. Eric glanced at him.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, leaning forward again. "Little Colette Holmes is an introvert, hard-ass who doesn't know the first thing about casual socializing or having fun."

"What a pity," Ronald murmured, his voice lacking the condescension Eric's had a moment before. He felt somewhat sorry for Colette. She was so driven and business-minded that she never seemed to care about anything or anyone else. She lacked empathy for others, only helping or associating with them if it turned out to benefit her. Hell, everyone in the London Dispatch Division shared mixed feelings about the attractive, petite, vicious blonde. She was, he confessed, easy to dislike; her macabre nature mixed with her harsh, apathetic attitude toward others as well as her cold, cruel eyes were a dangerous, off-putting mixture. On the other hand, her beauty and mysteriousness were enthralling. Hardly anything was known about Colette Holmes – her past was never talked about and she was extremely private, making for an enticing enigma.

"I don't know if I would call it that." Eric said, his deep, rough voice humming in his throat as he smirked and looked at the two men. "'Pathetic' would probably suit her better."

"Eric," Alan reprimanded, his voice calming and soft.

"What?" Eric asked, defending himself. "No one here's particularly fond of her, and I don't blame them. Her bad attitude is what brought it all upon herself." This earned a few firm nods from several eavesdroppers around them. Ronald shrugged.

"True," he agreed. "But I think she's an entirely different person underneath it all - a softer, kinder person underneath that cold, hard shell of hers." Alan nodded slightly, agreeing with Ronald. Eric snorted.

"Yeah right." He rubbed his well-trimmed goatee. "Lemme' let you guys in on something…" he said, leaning closer to them over his desk, "Someone like that," he whispered, jabbing his thumb toward Colette's office, "doesn't deserve any kindness the world could give them. They step on people and stab them in the back just to get ahead, and they never feel regret for it." His words hung in the air as the two Reapers remained silent. Alan began chewing his lip and went back to work. Ronald, however, was not deterred in the slightest by Eric's words. Colette was considerably rough around the edges, he had to admit, but under all that merciless ambition, he knew was something more; something wholesome and intriguing. Turning back to his work, he decided he was going to keep trying to get Colette to reveal what was underneath her hard exterior. He and she had been together for two years and he still didn't know anything more about her than their first day here. He had tried rather hard to become friends with her, but she soon made it apparent that she had no interest in making friends. Ronald then let off, but still would attempt to talk to her and get chummy with the little blonde. She was a puzzle. And he was going to try his damned best to solve it.

* * *

Colette clocked out promptly at seven-thirty and walked down several blocks to her flat. Sighing, she opened the door and stepped into the darkness. She fumbled for the light-switch on the wall and, finding it, flicked it upwards, immediately illuminating the flat. Colette lived alone, as she always had since she joined the London Dispatch Division. She found solace in being alone, not having to depend on anyone to provide her with company, happiness or prosperity. If she chose, she would seek those things out for herself; but she refused to depend on anyone else for them. Colette retreated into the bedroom on the second floor and, several minutes later, once she was in her nightgown, climbed into her bed and pulled the baby-blue satin sheets up to her neck, allowing herself to slip into a blissful slumber.

The next morning, Colette was glancing over her schedule for the day while seated behind her desk. She had come in early, wanting to avoid the copious, spiteful stares that always seemed to follow her. She didn't particularly mind being disliked; she had other things on her mind – bigger and better goals whose ability to be reached did not require her caring about others, much less of what they thought of her. They merely took up space in her world and were of no significant importance to her. Looking over her schedule, Colette noticed that she and William T. Spears were to give the introduction briefing to the new Reaper recruits. Her plump pink lips drew downward into a frown.

"You look much better with a smile, Holmes," a voice called from her doorway. Her head snapped up to look upon the intruder.

"Please do not barge into my office unannounced, Knox," she hissed, narrowing her eyes.

"You know, though…" he said, ignoring her comment and tapping a finger on his chin thoughtfully, "In the two years we've worked together, I don't think I've ever seen you smile." She scowled at him, barring her pearly-white teeth. "See?" he said, pointing at her face, proving his point.

She sighed, "What do you want, Knox?" she asked exasperatedly, rubbing her temple with her forefinger. Ronald smirked.

"Well I was just stopping by Mr. Suttcliff's office to see if he'd returned and I noticed your door was open." He began inspecting his nails nonchalantly.

"Please," she ordered, "return to your desk."

"But chatting with you is so much fun," he said, smirking. Colette was growing tired of Ronald's persistence. Even when they were new recruits, Ronald would constantly vex her, becoming as much of a nuisance as he could. He would try to start up conversations with her, invite her out for drinks or dinner, offer to take her to office parties and other social gatherings, et-cetera. She, despite his consistency, never took him up on any of his offers. Many similar offers had come to her from the other young men in the London Dispatch Division, but she would always decline them as well. However, once she began receiving promotions and the like, the offers and invitations stopped. This did not bother Colette in the least. She could care less whether men thought she was attractive or wanted to take her out.

"Mr. Knox." Ronald whipped around and Colette smirked at William, who had suddenly appeared behind the young Reaper.

"Y-yes Mr. Spears?" Ronald asked, trying his best not to reveal his uneasiness.

"Return to your desk," William ordered, pushing his glasses up with his finger. Ronald maneuvered around him and, without turning back, sauntered back toward the main floor. William turned his attention to Colette.

"It would seem you and I have a few new recruits to deal with," Colette mused, rising from her chair. William nodded and stepped to the side as Colette walked past him and into the hallway, closing and locking her door behind them.

* * *

"The duty of a Grim Reaper is essential. Our coercion with judgment and mortality is vital in the scheme of the fragile balance between life and death." The three new recruits stared at Colette with wide eyes as she repeated the phrase she had heard for countless years to them, sharing with these young little beings the value of their position as Reapers. William spoke up as Colette stepped back and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms.

"Your duty as Grim Reapers will be to harvest the souls of the dying. It is your responsibility to cast judgment on them and collect their souls." The three's gaze wavered between William and Colette, unsure of what to think or do.

"Um…" a mousy-brown haired boy with tiny stature raised his hand feebly. Colette's eyes snapped to him, gleaming with their usual iciness. The young boy was peuterbed by this and looked as if he were about to release his bladder all over himself right there in that chair. Colette smirked at his fear and glanced at William, who sighed.

"Yes?" William asked, exasperatedly.

"I-I thought Grim R-reapers were all m-males," he stuttered, his voice quiet and nervous. Colette raised an eyebrow and glanced over at William again, amusement riddled throughout her face.

"Ms. Holmes is one of our top Reapers here," William said, raising his chin slightly. "She is to be respected and treated no differently than your male superiors." They each nodded, their eyes still wide and slightly fearful, making the amusement Colette already felt grow even more.


	3. Covert Investigation

Colette returned to her office after the new recruit briefing to find a manila folder sitting on top of her desk. Curious, Colette took a seat in her plush, black leather chair and opened the folder. Inside, on the top right-hand corner, attached to the first page by a paperclip, was a picture of the entrance gate to what looked to be a circus. Colette looked closer at the other papers within the folder and, after a minute or two of reading, was interrupted by a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called, her eyes glancing up from her interesting new reading material. William appeared before her, standing in the threshold of the door. In his wand was a matching manila folder.

"It seems we have been placed on yet another assignment together, Ms. Holmes," William said curtly, pushing up his glasses.

"So it seems," Colette hummed, her eyes grazing the printed words as she flipped back through the file papers. Her eyes fell on the name of their destination, "Noah's Ark Traveling Circus," she muttered, biting her lip.

William nodded. "We will be dispatched tomorrow," he instructed, turning as he took a step to leave. Colette glanced up at him and nodded in understanding.

"I will meet you there," she said, intertwining her fingers and resting her chin on them. William gave a sharp nod and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Fog circled Colette's calves as she stood silently, waiting for William. In order to not waste time, she had gone on without him and was now standing about thirty meters away from the entrance gate of 'Noah's Ark Circus.' She sighed, allowing the chilly morning air's moisture to enter her lungs, filling them with crisp, wet oxygen. The sun began to rise and peek over the moor on which the colorful tents of the circus lay. It was a curious thing, Colette thought, that mortals should be drawn to such a thing as attending a circus performance. What was even more puzzling was that they viewed it as an entertaining, leisurely activity. Of course, most mortals were quite un-extraordinary. So, when the opportunity arrived at which they may escape their dull existence and for one morsel of a second, feel a closeness with the extraordinary, it did not surprise Colette that they would snatch it up like starving wolves. _"How pathetic,_" Colette thought as she straightened her baby-blue glasses.

"Good morning," a somewhat harsh-toned voice called from behind her. She did not turn around, but continued looking at the entrance gate and peculiar little tents that lay in wait ahead of them.

"Good morning," she replied in her low, sing-song voice. William appeared beside her. She cleared her throat and began making her way toward the gate, William walking next to her. When they arrived at the iron arch, Colette watched as several circus performers were emerging from their tents, each adorned in strange, flashy ensembles.

"You there!" she called to a young man with green hair and a dyed black stipe. He glanced around and, after a moment, locked eyes with Colette. He smiled and walked over.

Putting his hands on his hips and leaning back, he said, "Well, what are ye doin' 'ere?" His eyebrow rose in curiosity, but his genial smile remained. William spoke up.

"We wish to join your troupe'." The boy scrunched his nose and gave him a look of question.

"Really?" he asked, tapping his finger on his thin, pointed chin. "Weeeell I s'pose I can at least take ye to Joker." He straightened and pondered for a moment. "'E's our leader, o' sorts. 'E'll decide what to do 'bout ye," he added and, seeming to have made up his mind, motioned for the two to follow him as he turned and began walking among the peculiar stripped tents. Colette and William followed, their gate remaining slow and steady. Two small children, a boy and girl, laughed and pointed at the two from their perch on top on two stacked wooden crates as William and Colette passed. Colette turned and gave them an icy glare, which quieted them both immediately. William noticed this, but did not say anything.

"M' name's Dagger," the boy leading them said suddenly, half-way turning to look at them.

"Pleased to meet you," Colette answered slowly, bowing her head. The boy gave her a quizzical look.

"Ye two ain't from 'round 'ere, are ye?" he asked as they neared a row of larger tents.

"No," William answered curtly. Dagger nodded and took them to a sizeable black-and-white-striped tent on the left side of the row, lifting the entrance curtain for them after he had passed through.

"Yea'. I could tell," he said as they approached an ornately dressed, eccentric-looking man with orange hair. He turned and smiled at the three as they approached. Dagger gave an exaggerated bow to his 'leader' and left the three alone.

"Hiya," Joker said cheerfully as they came to stand before him. Colette scrutinized him, soon noticing that his right hand was that of a skeleton.

"Hello," William answered, pushing up his glasses. His voice was polite, but Colette noticed it was strained. Perhaps he wanted to be here even less than she did.

The man smiled and, putting one hand on his hip, thumbed toward himself and said, grinning, "Name's Joker. I s'pose ye could call me the 'ringmaster.'" William nodded politely in understanding. Colette, however, remained still and silent, her face emotionless.

"We are looking to join the Troupe'," William explained, pushing his glasses further up along the bridge of his nose. Colette watched Joker's expression carefully.

Joker's eyes widened, but he soon composed himself and said, smiling, "Is that so? Hmm. Well I s'pose that'd be fine. But," he said, pointing a finger at them and giving a toothy grin, "we gotta see yer potential before we just go an' let ye in. Ok?" Colette clenched her teeth and forced a smile, nodding. She did not figure she would actually have to preform in this ridiculous show. However, William and she were undercover, working on a secret assignment. They were required to blend in with these circus performers, no matter how much Colette did not want to. Besides, if this assignment was completed without any trouble, her threat of suspension may be lifted - and that was something Colette desperately wanted. So, she would make sure this special assignment went along superbly and without a hitch.

"Alright," William conceded. Joker then smiled and turned, motioning for them to follow him. As they made their way to the second largest tent, one that reached considerable height and was also striped with black and white, Joker turned to look at them over his shoulder.

"Either of ye got 'ny special talents, then?" he asked as they passed through the entrance of the tent. Colette looked up, watching what looked to be at least a dozen performers practicing their acts. Some were flying along the trapeze ropes, some were balancing on various objects, others were simply stretching and warming up. Her eyes fell on Dagger, who apparently had left them to come and practicing knife-throwing. She turned back to Joker, who stood in front of them, his hands on his hips.

"We can do anything you ask of us," Colette answered confidently. Joker looked slightly surprised.

"So ye speak after all, do ye?" he asked enthusiastically, putting a hand firmly on her shoulder and letting out a hearty laugh. She clenched her fists at his unwelcomed touch and held her tongue, which pined to give a harsh retort.

"Well, let's see what ye two can do, then," Joker exclaimed.

* * *

"That was easier than I had anticipated…" William murmured as he and Colette walked toward the costume tent. Colette hummed in agreement as their footsteps fell into sync. William and she had been accepted into the Troupe' after each of their impressive presentations. Colette wondered how William, a strict, proper, business-minded man, was able to pull off trapeze, balancing, tightrope, and acrobatic acts without so much as a single falter. It seemed so out-of-character for him, which piqued her curiosity.

"You know," William said, pulling the cloth entrance to the tent aside for the two of them to pass through, "if you do well on this assignment, I may put in a good word for you." Colette raised an eyebrow at him. "Your threat of suspension might then be put behind you." Her eyes widened slightly in surprise at this.

Two days passed, most of which Colette and William had spent in training with the other new members. It all seemed rather dull to Colette - they would rise and go straight to breakfast and then to training, where they would stretch and practice, then finish the day with dinner, showers, et-cetera. That afternoon, however, just after the First-string members had finished their show in the Big Top, Colette was making her way toward the Training Tent when something caught her eye – it was Joker, Dagger and Beast. They making their way toward the Infirmary Tent, all the while fussing about an incident that had occurred during the last show. Colette craned her neck closer to hear what they were saying. From what she heard, it sounded like a member of the audience who had been bitten by Beast's noxious little tiger. Colette smirked and shook her head, closing her eyes. When she opened them, though, they fell on the man who was following several feet behind the the First Stringers. She narrowed her eyes as she looked upon a man dressed in black, who was being lead by the three to receive medical attention. His long, slightly disheveled, black hair blew in the breeze as his head turned and his crimson-colored eyes locked with hers. Her eyes widened in shock, sensing immediately that this man was a demon. He gave her a small devilish smirk before disappearing into the Infirmary Tent behind Beast, Dagger, and Joker. Colette leaned against a pillar of stacked wooden crates. Her forehead began to perspire as the shock settled in. _A demon._ Indeed, this was in interesting sight. Colette wondered for a moment if William needed to be informed of the demon's presence, but she soon decided it was best to keep it to herself; William was not an agreeable sort, especially when such a creature was lurking in the shadows. Most Reapers, in fact, were not particularly fond of demons. Colette, however, aside from the shock she felt upon seeing one running loose among the humans of the mortal world, had no significant issue with them. In fact, she rather admired their freedom and malevolency. Collecting herself, she pushed the memory out of her mind and made her way back to the Training Tent, interested to see how the next few days would play out.

The next day, the demon dressed in black showed up again, this time with a small, angelic-looking boy adorning an eyepatch at his side. Colette, curious, followed them as Joker and Dagger took them through tryouts, watching them from the shadows. It wasn't long before she noticed the demon discreetly helping the boy through his tests by flicking pebbles at him, making sure his targets hit the bulls-eye and other things of that sort. The group turned and began walking toward the Training Tent and Colette went off ahead of them to avoid being seen. Once inside the Training Tent, Colette went to find William, who she saw was up on the tightrope. Before she could make her way over to him, the demon, child, and Troupe' members walked in. Colette glanced up at William, who's nose immediately wrinkled in disgust; his eyes gleamed with hatred as he looked down at the demon from the thin, suspended rope. Colette turned and began walking away from William and toward the group, smirking to herself, for she knew that the events that would ensue would surely be entertaining.

"Man, I give up! Another great new feller?! For real?!" Dagger said excitedly as Colette walked up to the group. She had watched the demon's flawless display of skills, excelling at them even more than William had several days prior. Colette had to admit, she was impressed.

"Nn? There's another new comer?" the young boy Colette had seen arrive with the demon asked.

"Well, two, actually." Dagger admitted. "But the feller, the one who's just joined, 'e's amazin'!" The boy and demon looked to where Dagger was pointing. Colette looked to see William still balancing on the tightrope. "O'er there!" Dagger said. Colette remained silent and her face emotionless as he continued, "'E used to be a civil servant or somethin' and is serious like ya wouldn't belive!" Colette noticed from the corner of her eye as expressions of shock and resentment appeared on the boy and demon's faces. She raised an eyebrow, curious. Did they know William? If so, how?

"Suit," Colette said. Dagger and the two looked at her, surprised at her sudden interjection. "Come down here." The three looked up as William glanced down, a look of disgust still plastered on his face.

"I thought I smelled something unpleasant," William muttered. "It was you, was it?" He looked directly at the demon. "Good grief." William extracted his scythe, which crashed to the floor between the demon and the boy, and slid down to the ground from his perch on the wire, saying, "I thought we would never meet again..." Colette's eyes widened slightly in surprise. So the three had met before...

"Goodness. What ever did you come sniffing around to devour this time," William questioned, standing upright between the two, facing the demon. "You devil?!" he exclaimed, pointing his scythe at the demon. Colette bit her lip. Of course William had to allow his ridiculous emotions take control - they may blow the entire assignment just because of his uncontrollable outburst. Colette narrowed her eyes. No. She would not blow this investigation and run the risk of getting into even deeper water with her superiors just because of William. She refused to allow him to ruin this for her.

Dagger looked at William, not knowing what to think or say. "De...vil?" he repeated meekly, utterly confused by the situation. Colette, the boy, and demon stiffened. Trying to think of something to say, Colette walked over to William.

"In this day and age, when there are rarely enough Grim Reapers to get the job done, even at the best of times. The appearance of a devil means I shant be able to clock out on t-." Colette stopped him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Enough of your joking, Suit," she said in a firm, authoritative tone. Then, turning to Dagger, she continued, "I apologize. His playful side does get the best of him every now and then." She smiled innocently at Dagger, who blinked and, after a stressful, tension-filled moment, burst out laughing.

"That's enough o' that, me big fore'eaded friend!" Dagger yelled, slapping William on the head. Everyone else who had gathered around now began laughing along as well. Colette breathed a silent sigh of relief, thankful that William's pig-headed actions had not cost her a promotion. Turning, Colette began to walk out, halfway listening to Dagger saying, "Ye said it with such a serious mug, I couldn't tell ye were joking!" Colette then brushed back the fabric entrance and exited the tent, allowing the chilling winter-night air to wrap itself around her.

A little while later, Colette watched from the wooden crate she was leaning against as William exited the tent, followed by the demon.

"Pardon me." Colette and William both turned their attention to the demon, who stood behind William. "There is a little something I would like you to tell me," he said, his crimson-colored eyes glinting hellishly in the moonlight and, smiling impishly, added, "old timer." Colette forced away a faint smirk that threatened to make its way across her lips.

William glanced over his shoulder and, his replied in a venomous tone, "I have nothing to say to you."

"Please do not be like that." The demon grabbed William by the wrist, keeping him from going any further. William's eyebrow twitched visibly at the demon's touch. Colette stood upright and faced the two.

"Just tell him what he would like to know, Spears," she muttered, leaning to the side and putting a hand on her hip. "It will be no use to keep it from him. He'll find out sooner or later." The demon looked at her, somewhat perplexed. William's lip curled. He knew she was right. This _noxious beast_ would indeed find out sooner or later.

Sighing, William yanked his wrist free of the demon's grasp and stood upright, straightening his glasses. "Alright," he growled.

* * *

"Really..." William complained, "on top of the London District being perpetually understaffed, that I, a member of Management, must go out into the field to retrieve souls time-and-time-again simply because the Retrieval Division is missing one employee." William and Colette had taken the demon to a more private place to speak and by then all that William had said were complaints. She sighed.

"Indeed. What a travesty."

"Watch your tongue, Miss Holmes," William warned. "You may be in line for a promotion to managerial staff, but as of now, you are still a member of the Retrieval Department." Colette grit her teeth.

"_Junior __Head_ of the Retrieval Department," she corrected. William gave her a cold look in response.

"So," the demon said, interrupting the two and turning to William, "what brings a busy Grim Reaper such as yourself to a place like this?" William narrowed his eyes.

"I'm here cleaning up after that scum Dispatch member who is currently suspended." Colette realized he was referring to her Senior Head, Grelle Sutcliff. "I didn't think I would be made to do so just because that_ thing_ and I are coworkers..." Colette narrowed her eyes at him, irritated that a member of Management would talk this way about a coworker. It was not professional, let alone decent. "And without any extra pay, at that," William muttered in addition, shaking his head in frustration. Colette was slightly surprised at this. Before, he had not expressed these ill-feelings toward this assignment to her. Why should he begin complaining in such a harsh way now?

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, the demon spoke, pulled Colette from her thoughts; "A reaper taking the trouble to come here for the purpose of investigating covertly leads me to believe that perhaps there are special circumstances at play?" This demon was indeed a clever one.

"I cannot give information pertaining to souls to a _fiend_," William answered, pushing his glasses further along the bridge of his nose with the tip of his scythe.

"It amounts to throwing a rabbit in front of a carnivore," Colette added, smiling playfully at the demon, who returned it with a mischievous smirk.

"I am afraid," the demon began, "I have no interest in cheap souls." Colette's eyebrow rose in curiosity. _"Cheap souls?"_ she wondered.

"Big talk for a starving devil," William retorted. "When the reality is that you're mad with hunger." The demon chuckled darkly and continued.

"I grew weary of indiscriminately devouring souls long ago." Colette leaned closer, listening intently. "The more ravenous I am," the demon said, motioning gracefully to himself, "the more delicious the dinner." He gave a dangerous, yet charming smile.

"You have poor taste," Colette hummed, amused. The demon turned to her and smiled wickedly.

"That rubbish employee of yours still has me squarely beat," he replied, turning his attention back to William. "Moreover, I have a collar around my neck at the moment." The demon pulled back the glove on his left hand, revealing a Faustian Contract mark. Colette was now extremely interested.

"Thus, I suppose we have nothing to fear," she mused, her voice soft and melodic. The demon curtly nodded a 'yes'.

"Very well," William replied. "Since you have the honor of being the greatest of evils to appear 'before I get to work", let me warn you...we Grim Reapers are tasked with judging those who are scheduled to die according to the Soul Retrieval List that is distributed to us. We use our Death Scythes to check each person's memories - their Cinematic Records - one by one, and judge whether they deserve to die or not. And without understanding the great effort we put forth, you devils go about snacking away at those souls like crows on a corpse." The demon eyed him, his face expressionless as William continued. "Let me be blunt. A few days hence, we will judge a large number of souls in this vicinity. This is a special case, so please refrain from interfering." The demon looked considerably surprised at this and, after a moment, a dark, playful grin appeared across his face.

"My goodness," he said, bowing his head slightly, "That must be quite a chore to handle for just the two of you. Still, a large number of souls..." He turned and looked over his shoulder at William. "Shall I lend you a hand?" William's eyes grew wide with anger as he extended his scythe, aiming for the creature's head. Instead, the blade took with it the black top hat the demon had been wearing as a part of his costume, narrowly missing his head.

"I refuse to work overtime free-of-charge," William spat. "I _will_ hunt you down if you get in my way." His scythe then retracted, giving the top hat back to the demon.

"Well, I myself have no desire to be involved with Grim Reapers either," the demon replied. "I am not interested in second rate souls, after all." His voice was low and cryptic, which enticed Colette's interest even further. It was then that the boy named 'Smile' appeared behind them.

"Hey!" he called, his hands on his hips and his voice firm and authoritative. "That noisy knife thrower is looking for you."

"He doesn't seem all that high-quality to me," William muttered. "I truly don't understand you devils."

"You!" Smile hollered, pointing at William. "Stop calling Sebastian that." Colette perked in surprise. Sebastian? "_This demon has a name?_" she wondered. The boy continued to glare at William as he went on, "What are you going to do about it if the Troupe' members get suspicious?"

"He has a point," Colette murmured. William gave her a vicious look.

"We were lucky they thought you were just joking before but..." the boy said, glaring at William, "the fact that you can't even blend in among people makes you lower than that vulgar reaper." His voice was dripping with scorn. Colette's eyes widened slightly, surprised and, she had to admit, impressed at the child's nerve.

"Indeed," the demon said, "as we will not get in the way of your duties, we hope that you will not get in the way of ours."

"Thank you," William replied. "I do not even want you in my field of vision."

"Perfect," the boy said, smiling impishly. "It's settled then. We agree not to interfere with each other at all." The tension between the four crackled at they each glared at one another for several moments, before William broke the silence.

"Right then. Smile," he said, turning to the child, "I'm counting on you to hold your dog's lead tight."

The boy chuckled, "I don't want to hear it from 'Specs', who can't even handle a covert investigation properly."

"Suit," Colette corrected. The boy's head snapped toward her.

"What?" he demanded.

"I am Suit," William defended. "Not Specs."

Smile gave a 'hmph' and motioned for the demon to follow him. "Come on, Sebastian."

"Yes sir," the demon answered, going after the boy, leaving William and Colette to stand alone. Several moments passed and Colette turned to William.

"You really can become the most disagreeable of sorts when a demon comes into the picture," she observed, her face serious as she glared icily at him.

"Mind your place, Holmes," William warned, turning and walking in the direction the boy and demon had headed in not long before. Colette remained silent and waited for a bit until she followed the others into the Training Tent.


End file.
